


dionaea muscipula

by Moriwen, playboyphilanthropist



Category: Glowfic and Related Works
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Exhibitionism, M/M, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 06:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17699585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriwen/pseuds/Moriwen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/playboyphilanthropist/pseuds/playboyphilanthropist
Summary: It's important to disclose some things, before your first time.





	dionaea muscipula

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainworthy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainworthy/gifts).



“Wait,” said Deadpool, his voice a little raspy from kissing.

Asher pulled back just far enough to look at Deadpool’s mouth. It was a really excellent mouth. The lips were even redder than usual, from all the biting, and there was an ironic sort of a quirk halfway down the line of it, where the scars started.

“I’m waiting,” Asher said. Some people might have disputed whether “waiting” was an accurate description of pinning someone to a floor-to-ceiling window in the dimly lit penthouse of Stark Tower, with a knee between their legs and a hand groping their ass, but in Asher’s defense, he had already been doing all of those things.

“Before we go any further. There’s something I have to tell you.”

It was hard to read Deadpool’s expression, because the mask was hiked up just enough to expose his mouth, for kissing purposes. Even that exposed his scar, dark red and mottled, stretching across lips and cheek and chin and down half his neck, disappearing under his costume. Asher ran his tongue over the interesting texture of it, because he could; Deadpool shuddered and grabbed at his hair.

“You’re getting distracted,” Asher breathed, still close enough to kiss him at any moment.

“And whose fault is _that?_ ” Deadpool defeated his own point by grinding a little against Asher’s thigh.

“Are you going to tell me,” Asher asked, “or do I have to guess? I don’t care if you’re trans, I don’t care if you have herpes -- if you’re positive we should wait until I can go on PrEP...”

“No! No, none of those things -- why -- never mind -- it’s. You’ve seen my face...”

“It’s a good face,” Asher agreed, kissing it some more.

“...people don’t realize ... how much...” Deadpool was having some trouble talking, which was probably related to what Asher’s hands were doing.

“Does it go,” Asher asked, kissing down his neck, “all ... the ... way ... down?”

“ _Asher Stark I am trying to be responsible!_ ” Deadpool exclaimed, very high-pitched and rapid.

“Okay, okay.” He bit Deadpool’s neck. Gently. He’d already discovered that biting Deadpool’s neck _hard_ prevented talking for some time afterwards. “Go on. Does the carpet match the drapes?”

“Oh for _fuck’s sake,_ ” Deadpool growled, and pulled Asher back up to kiss him some more. Which Asher took as a sign the conversation was over, and he could go back to making out with Deadpool in front of a really gorgeous view of the New York City skyline. (Asher _had_ a bedroom -- had any number of them -- but, as it turned out, the guy who dressed up in extremely tight bright red spandex and went out to fight supervillains was a bit of an exhibitionist. Who knew.)

After another interval of kissing, and the tragic loss of Asher’s shirt and Deadpool’s mask, Asher set about stripping off Deadpool’s costume. The zipper down the front, it turned out, was _very_ convenient for pulling down s-l-o-w-l-y, kissing each inch of skin on the way down until Asher was on his knees and Deadpool was pressing his cheek against the cool glass of the window and moaning.

It _did,_ Asher found, go all the way down. As the zipper parted from collarbone to navel, every inch of skin revealed was the same red: rich, mottled, pebbled, almost scaly. It was _fascinating._

“Asher,” Deadpool gasped, and at first Asher thought it was just more moaning -- Deadpool was doing a _lot_ of moaning -- but, no, he was really trying to talk. “Asher, I meant it, we need to -- you need to know...”

Asher looked up just as Deadpool shrugged off the costume, letting it fall down around his waist.

 _All_ of his skin was red.

No, that wasn’t true. There was that familiar pale skin-colored patch, half his mouth and one side of his neck and part of his face, not quite up to his skull. But everything below the neck was red and strangely textured and ...

... _n_ _ot,_ Asher realized, all at once, scarred.

Asher reached up, reverently, ran a hand up Deadpool’s chest. Deadpool was staring down at him, looking terrified.

“I do have a question,” Asher admitted.

“...what?” Oh, fuck, Deadpool was going to _cry._ And not a sexy kind of crying. The kind of crying that called for stopping sex and having cuddles and ice cream instead. Not that Asher objected to cuddles and ice cream; but this was shaping up to be really, really good sex.

Asher stood up, and kissed him on the mouth. On the red side, very deliberately.

“How,” he asked, when he was done with the kiss, “did you end up with part of a human face?”

Light was coming back into Deadpool’s eyes. He still looked nervous, but it was trepidation, not terror. “...it’s a long story.”

“I have,” Asher murmured, punctuating the sentence with kisses, “all ... the time ... in the world.”

“ _I_ ,” Deadpool retorted, “would like to get fucked at some point today ... look, you can think of it as ... I was cursed to look like a human.”

“They did a bit of a shit job of it,” Asher said, mildly.

“I -- _ah_ \-- I _told_ you it was a long story -- _which I can’t tell you if you keep biting me_ \-- curses have escape clauses, all right?”

“And you got ninety-five percent of yours done and called it a day?”

“Mine,” Deadpool sighed, “has a _lot_ of escape clauses.” He put a hand on his cheek, the red one. “I lost this the first time I died.” Moved the hand over his heart. “This was the first time I saved a life.” Shoulder. “First time I killed someone.” Other shoulder. “First ice cream cone.”

Then he smiled, put the hand on his hip. “Had this one up till about an hour ago. First kiss.”

“...fuck, _really?_ ” Asher wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or delighted.

“Yeah. And. Um.” Deadpool was avoiding eye contact again. “If we ... I can tell the conditions in advance. For a while I was trying to avoid them. After a while it wasn’t worth it anymore. But ... if we do this...”

His hand is on the pink skin of his other cheek, now.

“It’ll break the last part of the curse,” Asher finishes.

“Nothing that looks human will be left.”

Something hurt, deep inside Asher. “You should have just asked. Ages ago. Of course I’ll help you break it.”

“Help -- you’re missing the point.” A slow, deep breath. “I want to look like me. But ... there’ll be nothing left for you.”

“You,” Asher said, “are a fucking _idiot,_ will you _look_ at all of you that will be left for me,” and pulled down Deadpool’s pants.

Deadpool was looking like he might cry again.

“Huh,” Asher said.

Deadpool wasn’t wearing any underwear. _That_ wasn’t a surprise.The surprise was ...well. It _wasn’t_ a dick. It was ... if a cunt was a rosebud, this was a venus flytrap, was the analogy that sprang to mind, and Asher was running with it. Something alien, anyway. He couldn’t even tell if it was aroused -- if that was even a relevant concept -- though from the amount Deadpool had been grinding on him, it probably was.

Asher looked up at Deadpool. “Can I lick it?”

“Y....es?”

This was a little more ambivalent than Asher generally preferred his sexual partners to sound about the prospect of him licking their genitals. But ... if this was Deadpool’s first time, and it had _sounded_ like it was his first ... _he_ might not be sure.

Asher leaned in, and licked something that looked lickable.

Deadpool’s head clonked off the window.

“I’m going to assume that was a good sign,” Asher said, and did it again without waiting for an answer.

This theory was promptly confirmed by the hands in his hair, and the squirming, and the absolutely fascinating variety of noises from Deadpool, who appeared to have about twice the vocal range of a human and was using _all_ of it.

Deadpool kept spreading his legs -- to the point of imperiling his ability to stand -- so Asher took the hint and hoisted him up and against the window, held him there while he licked more thoroughly, extracting more delightful noises in the process.

There were glistening droplets beginning to appear, which Asher figured was probably a good sign. He went to lick one, but Deadpool gasped “wait, no,” flinching back.

Asher lowered him down, carefully. Deadpool was trembling. “Sorry,” Asher said, softly, stroking his hair. “I’m sorry -- are you all right?”

“Yes -- I’m just...” Deadpool was clinging; Asher took this as a cue to scoop him up again, bridal-style this time, and carry him off to his bedroom. Cuddling was starting to seem important.

Once they were ensconced in bed in a suitably cuddly fashion, Asher petted Deadpool’s hair, waited for him to talk.

“It’s just.” Deadpool was nervous, tracing patterns on Asher’s chest with his fingertips. “It’s not _bad_ \-- but once you touch that, I’m, I’m done. It’s -- for a _while._ ”

“Okay.” Asher kissed him, tenderly. “So. Not yet?”

“Not yet,” Deadpool agreed. “The rest is fine, just -- be careful of the, the...”

“Trichomes?” Asher offered, and Deadpool blinked. “...Sure.”

“No problem.” Asher kissed him again. “Spread your legs for me, beautiful, I want a better look.”

Deadpool appeared to be trying to hide his face in a pillow, just a little, but he complied, and Asher slid down between his legs. Spread the -- lobes? -- being careful of where he put his hands. They were larger than human parts of either sort; unfolded and engorged like this, they were almost the size of salad plates. Between them, the skin was smooth, freckled and very wet.

Well. Licking hadn’t gone wrong so far. Holding the lobes spread, Asher lowered his mouth to them, tasted the liquid. Slick, a little sticky; sweet.

Deadpool _screamed._

Asher pulled back, alarmed. “Are you -- all right?”

Deadpool’s thighs were shaking; his hands were knotted in the sheets. “ _Don’t you fucking dare stop._ ”

“Ohh _hh_ ,” Asher said, delighted, and reapplied himself.

Deadpool screamed a _lot._ He writhed and arched off the sheets and cried and dripped whatever the sweet fluid was; the lobes tried to close together, and Asher had to exert some force to keep them apart. It was _marvelous._

Eventually, Deadpool having been reduced to whimpering “mercy, mercy” into the pillow, Asher pulled off his own pants, and considered logistics for a moment before covering Deadpool’s body with his own, sliding his dick along the slick freckled skin. It was _good;_ Deadpool’s scream drowned out Asher’s moan, but he _was_ moaning.

“Now,” Deadpool gasped, “ _now,_ ” took Asher’s hand and clumsily pressed it between his own legs, fumbling until he got it to touch a trichome.

The lobes snapped shut around Asher’s dick. Deadpool made a noise like he was dying, and a face like he was seeing heaven on the other side.

As for Asher -- it was strange, but it was also hot and slick and so tight around him, so he moved against Deadpool, thrusting, taking and taking, biting Deadpool’s shoulder to muffle his own noises.

Deadpool mustered the coordination to wrap his legs around Asher, pulling him in, begging for more. So Asher _gave_ him more, and harder, and Deadpool shuddered and moaned and cried and screamed, until he couldn’t do any of those things anymore, only lie there, trembling and whimpering.

Asher bit Deadpool’s shoulder as he came. Deadpool managed a tiny moan for that, drowned out in the noises Asher made, as whatever-it-was clenched around him, sucking at him, mercilessly intense.

Afterwards, they lay entangled in each other, blissful and damp with sweat.

“I’m stuck,” Asher observed.

“It’ll be a few hours.” Deadpool moved his head to rest more comfortably on Asher. “You’ll just have to cuddle me until then.”

“Oh no. A terrible fate.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday <3


End file.
